


Colour

by amuk



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Amnesia, Captivity, Community: 31_days, Fear, Gen, Human Experimentation, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a pure white room, so pure and dazzling she has to closer her eyes when she enters. Where is the colour?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, the guy is Tyki.
> 
> Theme: 14. Same thing we do every night, my dear

It’s a pure white room, so pure and dazzling she has to close her eyes when she enters. Even the lights are white and she stays still at the door. Even then, in the dark depths of her mind, the white echoes and repeats and she can’t tell if she has actually closed her eyes.

 

She lingers, a foot hovering in the air, unable to cross the threshold. If she could, she’d stay like that without having to make that choice.

 

“Come in,” a voice grates and she shivers involuntarily before moving. Even then she’s hesitant. A few strands of her hair fly past her eyes and she stares at the black. Colour, something she can’t recall when she enters this wing for days at a time. Colour that is not white like the newly scrubbed skin on her hands or the freshly washed gown they have her wear. Even her shadow is white here. The tresses of her hair stand out and she nearly makes a grab for them when the voice continues. “Hurry up, Lenalee.”

 

Lenalee, that is her name. Maybe. Once upon time, there must have been a colour for that name but she can’t remember what it was. Lenalee…it sounds nice.

 

(For a moment, she thinks of blue-black eyes and red, red hair and who are those boys? They were important to her once but she doesn’t know why. There was another and he was important too. She doesn’t understand why when his hair was as white as her world is now.)

 

“Come on, Lenalee.” His—she knows it is a ‘he’ somehow—voice annoys her. He shouldn’t be saying her name at all. Someone else, with glasses and…she can’t remember anything else. That person, though, should be saying her name.

 

Involuntarily, she goes to him anyways, a puppet following her master’s commands. _Clack, click, I’ll make you sick_ rhymes the metal knife that’s placed on the white tray next to her. It hums too loudly in her mind and she makes a move to push it away when a hand grabs her wrist. “Uh, uh. Can’t have you do that now.”

 

It’s a bruising hand, an ugly hand, and she can see blood stains on it, stains as white as his gloves. “Don’t touch me,” she says when her voice comes back.

 

(Came back from where?)

 

She pulls her hands away from him. Soft hands, rough hands, she knew that those used to hold her but they were always kind hands. “Don’t touch me.”

 

“You’re talking now?” The voice sounds amused. “I thought you stopped so long ago…I’m glad I can hear your lovely voice. _He_ will be most pleased.”

 

Who? She almost asks but her voice stops again. Her mind supplies her with a white ghost and she doesn’t think about it anymore. Instead she turns her head and the voice becomes a body. He smiles at her, his skeleton teeth gleaming. “You know what to do. If you’re good today, we’ll be done with this hall for now. We might even let you outside.”

 

She complies, held only by that promise.

 

She’d do anything to get out of that building and see the world once more.

 

-x-

 

She runs outside, her footsteps singing _Outside, Outside_ as she makes her way down the hall. He isn’t too far behind her but she doesn’t slow down so he can catch up. She’s nearly there, nearly made it, and then she nearly collides with the doors. Luckily, they open and she pushes her way outside.

 

Smiling, she twirls around in the fresh air for a moment, her eyes closed as she feels the wind caress her skin. Then she opens it and all she can see is white again. It falls, small drops drifting with the wind and blanketing the world. Even the broken buildings and small fires are covered in white.

 

As she falls to her knees, he comes up behind her and starts to laugh.

 

She knew it was too good to be true.

 

(There is no colour. Not anymore.)


End file.
